


Heart of Grey Warden

by Karyra



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Ghibli Elements, Modern AU with some sci-fi twists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5718370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karyra/pseuds/Karyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh Grey Warden, what have you done? You've fallen from the sky, and undone the Blight. A tale retold but not the same, but oh, Grey Warden what have you done?</p><p>Some things are the same, but too much of the world has changed. Sky pirate elves roam the skies, mages lie in towers and never see the ground, and dwarves know to much. If you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people.</p><p>Grey Warden, what have you done?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart of Grey Warden

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Heart of Grey!
> 
> Basically, I plan on trying to keep chapters short, but this results in more chapters. The guideline will be the original game, but I plan on taking a lot of liberties with this universe. 
> 
> I don't own Dragon Age. If I did Inquisition would have smaller maps and faster mounts.
> 
> If you wanna scream in my inbox about this fanfic, you can find me at:  
> darkeyednobody.tumblr.com

Once upon a time, there was a redheaded elf girl with her head literally in the clouds. Her dreams were much like any other in the ethereal obsidian tower. To escape. To touch the ground again.

She watched the land below the tower move below, peering over the edge of the courtyard to see Lake Calenhad. The last time that the Circle had visited Lake Calenhad was only a year ago, but the glittering water that had been just out of reach always held a mystical quality to it. As though every year they promised that someday soon, Fiova Surata would be able to touch the water below.

She imagined it would be cold, and have fish like in the books. Her feet dangled over the edge, and she wondered if she could jump down into the water so far below and escape the Tower. To feel the grass below her bare feet.

“Fiova! Fiova where are you?”

“Over here! On the edge!” she called back to the scrawny black haired man. Waving her arm lazily without turning around to face him.

“Wh-why must you always do this! Someday the Templars are really gonna catch you!” he said, nervously moving close to her, but not close enough to the edge to see over it.

She laid back on the grass to see the sky above her, letting her messy braid be strewn across the grass. She seemed to think on the point the man had brought up, but stood up instead of remaining on the edge.

“Pfft,” she laughed, “I got one smitten with me, so I doubt that he’ll bring it up at the very least. Plus, it’s not like I’m doing magic out here.” Her accent made her statement stronger somehow, even if they threatened her with blunt swords her they couldn’t beat out the Dalish part of her. Even if she’d never met another Dalish before.

“Cullen? He’s a recruit that believes in the Order wholeheartedly, he’d totally rat you out!” The man said nervously, taking Fiova’s arm and pulling her into the courtyard proper. Fiova let him pull her, since she had to go that way anyway.

“Whatever, Jowan. Besides, I wanted to see the lake again before I did my Harrowing,” she said as she began to meander over to the tall wooden doors.

“I wish I was on the list. I’d be lucky not to be made Tranquil, to be honest. They don’t put a list of that up on Tower though.” He said. He opened his phone again to check it, flicking quickly through the mass of posts made my apprentices who were nervous about The Harrowing. Which was every apprentice except Fiova, it seemed.

They were lucky to have a way to communicate at all. And even then, it was just within this Circle, nowhere else in the world. If you moved to a different Circle elsewhere, it all went away and you had to start over with strangers there as well as all around you.

Fiova thought of one of the requirements for the Harrowing, mostly she’d been trying to forget about it, but Jowan nervously clutching his simple mage’s staff made of plain wood and a crystal reminded her.

“Hey, uh, I still can't summon my staff,” Fiova said, trying to look casual. “Can I-”

“Borrow mine? No. The Templars will know whose it is right away.” To make his point clearer, he dismissed it in a swirl of green, returning it to the Fade.

“But Jowwwwwaaaaaan-” Fiova complained, drawing out his name like a child.

“You haven’t even tried to summon yours, I bet.”

“But-”

“I’m sorry, but if they catch you we both end up on the chopping block!” Jowan said, a little louder than he’d meant to.

Fivoa didn’t want to say it, but she had to, because Jowan would just get worse if she pushed the topic. “You’re right. It was stupid to ask,” Fiova said. “I hope they won’t fail me just based on that, though.”

“It’s not ‘fail’ in as much as it becomes your execution, Fi.”

As they reached the doors, Fiova blew a raspberry to give off aloofness. Some days, it was too bad that she was such a great actor.

The hall split two ways, a small entryway to the right was where storage was. It usually contained position and poultice ingredients. The hall ahead was all vaulted ceilings and red carpeting. Sometimes if you looked closely at the dark brick of the walls, you could see scorch marks and other kinds of damage from new mages. The Templars had made rules about magic in the hallway, but it wasn’t a new rule.

“Well, my barracks are the other way, good luck Fi,” Jowan said as he waved goodbye. 

Fiova didn’t say anything, it wasn’t unusual for him go off to the Chantry but say he was going somewhere else. He was probably hitting up another mage for... relations or something. Either way, it felt like a secret code. She and Jowan were close, and spoke often, but she liked to imagine that they were close enough to have one. Even if on a lot of wavelengths, they just didn’t understand each other.

Fiova hoped it wouldn’t be the last time they spoke, but without a staff to focus her magic through she was weaker magically. She needed something to focus through or she’d just get overwhelmed with everything that the Fade would throw at her. She just hoped the power she had in the Fade would be enough to carry her through something called ‘The Harrowing’. Even the name was off putting. She guessed Templars had a flair for the dramatic.

Fiova caught her hands starting to shake at the thought of becoming possessed.

Fiova closed her hand and tried to picture a flame inside, a tiny bit of warmth that signalled that she still had power, she still had something. She tugged at the edges of reality, where she could feel the Fade and pulled them to where she wanted them, and told the tiny rift of Fade what she wanted. When she opened her hand, the tiny blue flame danced, swaying less than if she’d made it a more gentle flame. Her control was out the window, but the test was more about warding off demons than control, so she figured she’d be okay.

“You’re, uh, not supposed to do that in the halls, Miss Fiova.”

At the sound of the familiar Templar voice, Fiova banished the flame by closing her hand again. She nearly burned her fingers doing it, but it was the quickest way to smother the flame. The coldness that crept in afterwards was noticeable, but she wouldn’t tell him why she’d summoned it.

“Cullen! I... I was just practicing for The Harrowing.” Fiova mumbled out.

“I understand, but it’s...” Cullen looked away and mumbled, “it’s in the rules, miss.”

No magic anywhere but where permitted. Fiova was also certain that there was a rule that said ‘no fun allowed, either’.

“You can just call me Fi. We’ve known each other forever, Cullen.” She said, smiling.

“Yes, Miss Fi.”

The blond Templar was close with Fiova, which wasn’t hard. Even if he was a Templar and had different responsibilities, it wasn’t like the Templars could live elsewhere. Flying towers full of mages tended to require close quarters and regular interaction.

He had on the official armor of the Templars, she noticed. Silverite plate that had been fitted and altered to channel Lyrium all over so that Templar just need to press a button to activate their powers. The red robes underneath were like the Chantry monk’s, which allowed for him to able to move quickly. He probably had a new starlight sword too, as they’d found the foreign stone allowed Templars to destroy a mage’s summoned staff easily.

Close enough to my nickname I suppose, Fiova thought. She walked with him down the long corridor. “Do you know if mages fail if they can’t summon their staves?”

“Uhm, far as I know it’s just if they get possessed or not. Ultimately, it’s up to whoever is on the exe- I mean proctor spot.”

She leaned on him for more information, exploiting the chink in his armor while avoiding thinking about what Cullen had about to say before he said proctor. Metaphorically. Fiova wanted to shudder at the idea of doing anything further with Cullen of all people. They were just friends, and it never hurt to be friends with a Templar. “Do you have any insider information, Knight-Commander Cullen?” Fiova laughed.

“That’s not my rank, and what I’ve already told you is enough to get me in trouble,” Cullen said as they arrived. He looked down at his shoes, as though they would give him confidence. “B-before you go in, I-I want you to know that I-I-”

“Recruit Cullen. Are you ready to Proctor-” a Senior Templar exited the Harrowing room, the Lyrium veined chestplate faintly glowing. “Oh! I see I interrupted you. Feel free to enter at any time, mage.”

Fiova was silent, her eyes darting to the sword at the Senior Templar’s side. While the Templars said they kept their tools sharp at all times, Fiova knew better. The only day they sharpened those blades was on The Harrowing. Much more fun to beat mages with blunt weapons, after all. These weren’t Magekillers, after all, they were just in charge of keeping order in the tower.

“No, it wasn’t anything too important. I’d much rather get this over with,” Fiova said. Plus, it’s not gonna matter much if I fail or they make me Tranquil or kill me. Sorry Cullen, you can tell me another time.

“W-wait. I wanted to give the mage something before she started, she left it in her bunk.” Cullen said, somewhat louder than before.

He turned and pressed a small dagger into her hand, it was small enough that if she closed her hand it would be concealed. It would cut her palm some because it was unsheathed, but it would be worth it if she could take it into the Fade.

“Ah, my good luck charm! Thank you, Cullen,” Fiova said, smiling for real. While she hid it in her sleeve.

Weapons weren’t allowed unless you could summon them or were a Templar. This dagger was probably of Templar make and would be noticed if it went missing. She’d have to ask Cullen about it later and return it. Or she’d just be thrown off the Tower and left to rot in the lake below.

For now, The Harrowing.

They moved into the large, circular room, it was surrounded by stained glass of Andraste and various scenes from The Chant that Fiova only knew because the Templars insistend on mages going to the Chantry every week. It painted the room in glittering greens and reds, like the light was at war with itself. It didn’t make Fiova feel any better, and she was certain that she was going to fail. 

As long as she thought of it as a ‘pass or fail’ situation she could convince herself that she wasn’t going to die in this room.

“R-right. I wi-will be in charge of Proctoring your Harrowing, Fiova Surata.” She’d nearly forgotten Cullen was here. “Before we begin, you are allowed to submit to the Rite of Tranquility to avoid The Harrowing. If not, and you become possessed during the test, you are to be executed on the spot. B-by the Proctor. W-which is m-me.”

“Wait,” Fiova said. “I thought that being the Proctor for a Harrowing was the only way for a Templar Recruit to gain a rank?” So they had to kill a mage, watch them become an abomination, or fight off demons to rise past recruit. Fiova didn’t like the implications.

“It is,” the Senior Templar said, her eyes coldly watching Fiova. Like a predator sizing up prey.

“Oh. I... kinda wish I’d been told that earlier.” Fiova shifted on her feet, but tried to keep her game face on.

“When you complete The Harrowing, you will also gain a rank in the Circle. You will gain access to new knowledge that may disillusion you about the Circle. This is a reminder that becoming a Tranquil is always an option.” Fiova didn’t like how the older woman said that, and how the Rite seemed to be pushed forward as an option once again.

Fiova tried to justify that they didn’t want to fight an Abomination.

“No, I’m going to do The Harrowing. Without a staff, since I can’t summon mine.”

“Pl-please try, Miss Fiova,” Cullen said.

He had a point, she realized. It’d be better to try and fail than to simply assume she couldn’t summon it. Plus, she might be able to summon it better in the presence of Lyrium, it was already washing over her.

Fiova reached out her hand, reaching also with her mind into the Fade, searching for her staff. Good mages could ‘store’ their staves in the Fade, which made it easier to travel and care for them. It always seemed so easy, like a flick of the wrist and there they were. Fiova reached out for her pictured staff, but it didn’t appear so she made hers over again.

It was simple, just plain oak with a top like a tree’s branches. Inside was a gem to focus, and a blade for close range. Simple, and plain like her. For once she realized that her fingers would brush the wood of the hilt, when before it would simply be out of reach completely. It seemed to shimmer before her eyes so close and yet so far, but when she closed her hand around it, it vanished into mist.

When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing in her hand as well.

“Welp, I tried. Guess I’m punching some demon butt, then,” Fiova said, smiling to cover up how close she had been.

Silence.

Fiova stuffed down her feeling of foreboding.

Well, that joke went over well. Guess it’s true about Templars. They do not like jokes.

“I will allow it,” Cullen said from where he stood behind Fiova.

The Senior Templar considered it for a moment. “You know the rules, I assume?” she asked.

“Touch the lyrium, go into the Fade, kick demon ass, return without becoming an abomination. Easy peasy.” Fiova said, trying to keep upbeat, despite the floor seeming to open under her feet.

“Most mages without staves fail.” Templar woman said.

“Well some pass, apparently,” Fiova muttered under her breath. Then she added, “I understand, and won’t undergo the Rite. You can’t make me Tranquil,” Fiova said loudly and clearly.

They could. Everyone in this room knew it. But she hoped Templars had a conscience at the very least.

“We can, but we choose to respect your wishes and allow you to do the Harrowing. Please place your hand inside the lyrium to begin.”

Well, it was do or die time, it seemed like, so Fiova shot Cullen a smile and moved towards the pedestal and bowl. As she stared into the turquoise surface of the Lyrium, she laughed at her own silent joke. It was literally do or die time. Fiova clutched the dagger tighter.

“Here goes nothing,” Fiova said as she plunged her hand into the blue depths of the Lyrium.


End file.
